


Floral Print

by gilshaelos



Category: LISA (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Past Abuse, Pre-Flash, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:30:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilshaelos/pseuds/gilshaelos
Summary: Brad goes shopping for some new T-shirts, and spots something familiar.





	Floral Print

**Author's Note:**

> WOO!  
> THANK YOU so much to tom (@feraltoms) and rasputinian (same @ and also @hintlords) on twitter for beta reading!!!!! yall are the absolute best and it means a lot.  
> please enjoy....this. i made it for me but you can read it  
> i love love love fics where brad has to deal with his trauma cuz... Ya Gotta.

Another hole in his shirt.  
Shit.  
Brad furrowed his brow at the newly ruined shirt. He wasn’t sure if he was getting bigger or they’re making shirts smaller.  
Either way, Brad has to go shopping for new shirts to wear. He grimaces at the idea, dreading going into a clothes store, walking to a mens section, and then trying them on… Then putting them BACK if they don’t fit?!  
Brad hated every aspect of buying clothes. He didn’t want to spend upwards of over an hour trying on clothes and staring at himself in a mirror.  
It was one of his last good shirts, so Brad was forced to get ready for a trip to the store. He felt an uneasy feeling rest on his arm as he grabbed his wallet, and he glanced down to see a spider on his arm, magenta legs mingling with his arm hair.  
It’s head was round and pink, thinning black hair covering the alcohol soaked face. Finally topped with shining sunglasses that sparkled as it grinned at Brad. Brad’s breath hitched and he clumsily swatted the spider away. He peeked to where it should have landed, but there was nothing there.

Brad steadied himself on the door frame for a moment, then picked his head up and started walking out and towards the store.

-

His hands floated over the assortment of shirts. Different colors and fabrics… Brad never knew what looked good on him. He always just wore white T-shirts or band shirts from the 80s. Sometimes a nice polo shirt on fancy outings. Brad couldn’t remember the last time he dressed up nice for someone, or anyone, for that matter.  
He picked up a pack of extra large white T-shirts and tossed it into his hand basket. Brad’s current rotation of white shirts were getting worn out and on their way to being much smaller than he is.

He stopped and lingered on a section of quite colorful shirts and button ups. Brad thumbed his way through them, trying to take in the array of designs.  
He stopped on a red colored floral button up. It had a deep but bright red color, mixed with white and yellow flowers with leaves poking from underneath them. Brad felt a stone in his stomach dragging him down. It was nearly identical to the one Marty wore for a majority of Brad’s childhood.

But, he frowned, it wasn’t. The shirt in his memory was different, albeit blurry in his mind. It made him nauseous to think about.  
Out of the corner of his eye, perched on his shoulder was another one of those damn spiders. Brad considered and almost shoved it off frantically, but he realized he was in public. He can’t act like that. He tried to steady his breathing instead, and he shut his eyes tightly for a moment.

 

Brad remembered that once Sticky wore his hair like his own father did. It made him feel uneasy, since Brad and Sticky bonded over their father’s treatment towards the both of them. He remembers pulling Sticky aside that day, wringing his hands, apologizing and mumbling out how similar his hair looked.  
He remembers the look Sticky gave him, the quirked eyebrow and tilt of his head as Brad told him. He sighed and put a hand on Brad’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze  
“Brad…” He started, “You can’t avoid everything.”

Brad blinked, realizing he was gripping the floral shirt tightly. He took a breath, grabbing the shirt and quickly shoving it in his hand basket. He turned on his heel, and made a beeline for the self checkout registers.  
He checked out his items as fast as he could, paying and almost tripped over himself as he walked out the door.

Brad got home and hung up his new shirts, lingering on the floral printed one. He turned it over once in his hand. He hung it up and pushed it back far into his closet, closed it and dared to take a deep breath.  
He sighed and balled his hands up before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. It was a small step, but it was a step.

-

Brad rifled through his closet, trying to find something decent to wear to one of Rick’s monthly dinner get togethers. He liked these dinners, there were plenty of leftovers to take home and Brad loved talking to the guys. It wasn’t as if they never talked or saw one another otherwise, but it declined over the years. Brad pushed away a polo he knew to be too small now and he thought about what Rick would make tonight. He huffed and pushed away more shirts, digging into his closet for something nice enough to wear to Rick’s.

His eyes finally settled on the red floral button up he bought on impulse a few weeks ago. He nervously grabbed it and held it away from him. He turned and laid it on his bed, as if it were made of glass.

Brad shimmied out of his pajama pants and kicked them into a small pile of dirty clothes. He grabbed his favorite pair of black jeans, Brad really did like how they made him look. Slim and well-adjusted. He sat down and shuffled them on, buttoning it and then looping his belt on. He then took off his worn out Men At Work band shirt and tossed it aside.

Brad looked down at himself, he poked and prodded his stomach a little, and frowned. He was getting a little bigger, but he figured it was because he was just getting older… Or because he was slacking on his workout routine (and eating more Almond Joys after dinner). He adjusted the top of his pants to better sit on his hips, and smoothed out some of his chest hair.  
Brad turned to grab one of his many white shirts from the top of his dresser and slipped it on. The shirt was a bit snug and it hugged his frame.  
Brad inhaled and reached for the red button up lying on his bed. He hesitated, hand hovering over the neckline, Brad wondered if he would even look good in this kind of thing. It was too colorful, wasn’t it? Too loud and too much like trying to be the center of attention. He thought for a moment the others would make fun of him for wearing something so flowery and weird. Brad shook his head and grabbed it.

Rick always wore pink, he reasoned to no one.  
One arm through.  
No one ever made fun of him for wearing a bright pink suit.  
The other arm through.  
Maybe Brad was allowed to let himself wear something colorful.  
Adjusted the collar.  
Maybe Brad was allowed to take up space.  
Smoothed out the front of it.  
He smiled weakly at the thought.

He grabbed his wallet and a 6-pack of beer from his fridge, then started making his way over to Rick’s house.

-

“Brad!”

Rick smiled and welcomed Brad into his house. It was warm, inviting, clean, and well kept.

Brad sheepishly grinned and held up the 6-pack. “I felt bad not bringing anything.” He slipped off his shoes. “I hope beer is okay, it's the cheap stuff.”

Rick took it from his hands. “Its just fine Brad, I think I was running real low on beer anyways.” Brad followed Rick to the living room.

Rick put the beer down on the coffee table then turned to look at Brad. “Brad…” He eyed him up and down. Brad stiffened.

“You look great! Is this a new shirt?” He tugged at the bottom of it to straighten it out. “It looks so good on you!”

Brad felt himself blush and his hand started to curl in his hair. “Uh, yeah, I bought it awhile ago…” He trailed off.

“Hey Sticky! Cheeks!” He called to the kitchen. “Come look at this new man!”

Sticky hobbled into the room first, and whistled at Brad.  
“You’re wearing color!” Cheeks pointed out.

Brad looked off to the side as more murmurs of praise and compliments came from his friends. His face so warm he thought it’d melt.  
Rick smiled so sweetly at Brad, “Do a twirl for us!”  
Brad shyly turned around, arms outstretched, in a circle. Sticky whistled again, Rick and Cheeks cheered.

“Thanks guys.” He managed to say.

“I love this new Brad.” Cheeks joked. “He’s wearing something other than grey!”

“Something other than a band shirt!” Sticky chimed in.

Brad sat down on the couch while Rick walked into the kitchen to finish up dinner. He quickly got into some conversation about sports or what's been happening at the jobs everyone worked while Rick was away. He still felt good about his new shirt. Even if the moment passed, Brad was satisfied.  
He wanted to carry the moment with him throughout the night. It meant a lot to him. Although Brad assumed they were already drunk or at least buzzed, but their words made him happy.

Dinner came and went, some beers passed around and jokes thrown every which way.

Rick put the last container of leftovers into Brad’s hands. “Get home safe, okay Brad?”

Brad nodded, a bit buzzed from the beers. “Okay Rick.”

“And you’ll come back next month?” Rick smirked. “I’m going to be working on a new recipe that’ll knock you and the guys on their asses.”

“Sure Rick.” Brad gently beamed at the taller man.

Rick cupped Brad’s cheek for a little too long, and smiled. “Alright then, I’ll let you go. Have a good night Brad.”  
Brad nodded and stumbled away from the doorway, and back towards his apartment.

 

Brad hastily put the leftovers in the fridge, and kicked his shoes off. He walked into his room and undid his belt, tossing it aside. Brad pulled his pants off and threw them aside too. He will just find them in the morning, he told himself as he slipped on some clean pajama pants.  
Brad slowly took off the floral shirt. He grabbed a hanger from his closet and gently hooked it on. He turned and hung it up, treating it with more care than he ever has with any article of clothing. 

Brad breathed a sigh as he sat on his bed. 

He felt a small pressure on his leg and Brad looked down to see a spider. Its eyes burning a hole through the sunglasses and then through Brad. It had a drooling, sick and twisted grin. Brad smacked it away, and hurriedly put his legs to his chest, hugging them tight.  
The spider disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Brad exhaled haggardly, and put his forehead on his knees, shutting his eyes tightly as his head swam.

It was a small step, but it was a step.


End file.
